


Dim the Lights

by DeathBelle



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Awkward Kissing, Consent is Sexy, Flirting, Frottage, M/M, Miya twins making a scene in public, They should probably do this in private instead of in a movie theater, They're still in high school but they're 18, What else is new, canonverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:22:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28796820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathBelle/pseuds/DeathBelle
Summary: Suna leaned over and whispered, “I’m bored.”“You always say that during movies,” said Atsumu, still watching the screen. “It’s ‘cause you can’t look at your phone.”“Atsumu.” Suna leaned a little closer, his words tickling Atsumu’s ear. “I said I’m bored.”“Yeah, I heard ya, and I said…” Atsumu trailed off, his focus slipping from the screen to Suna as he picked up on his tone. Suna’s face was mostly inexpressive but there was something about his eyes, a gleam that Atsumu recognized. “…Oh.”
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 36
Kudos: 563





	Dim the Lights

Atsumu was determined not to make a scene at the movie theater. He was the captain of Inarizaki’s team now, after all. He was in charge, he was someone their kouhai looked up to, and he needed to be a responsible adult. 

A piece of popcorn plunked against his shoulder and fell into the floor. It wasn’t alone.

Atsumu resolutely took a long drink of his soda. If he ignored this, it would stop. He wouldn’t react this time.

The team had planned a night out as a bonding experience, and although Atsumu had left the activity to a group vote, he’d strongly encouraged everyone to choose a trip to the theater. It was partly because the team talked about movies often and he thought they would have a good time.

It was also partly because he and Osamu had been grounded ever since their last fight, and the only way their parents would let them out of the house was for a school- or team-related event. Atsumu had been dying to see this movie, so it was a win-win.

Another piece of popcorn sailed over, this one landing in his lap. Atsumu brushed it away and dipped a hand into his own popcorn bucket for a bite. Beside him one of the first-years bounced in his seat as something exciting happened on-screen, but Atsumu was too focused on keeping his temper in check to notice what it had been.

Gradually, he settled down. This was the first night out he’d had in three weeks. He needed to relax and enjoy it. He needed to-

Another piece of popcorn hit him, right in the side of the face.

“Will ya fuckin’  _ stop it _ ?” hissed Atsumu, leaning over Suna to snap directly at Osamu. “I swear, ‘Samu, I’m this close to punchin’ you in your stupid ugly face.”

Osamu was calm, as always. He raised an eyebrow, as if he didn’t know what Atsumu meant, and shoved a large handful of popcorn into his mouth. 

Atsumu scowled and slumped back in his seat. Suna side-eyed him, but didn’t say anything. He probably regretted sitting between the two of them. It wasn’t as if he’d ever had much success keeping the twins’ fighting under control, no matter how many times the coach tasked him to keep their arguments to a minimum.

Atsumu stared at the wide screen, quietly frustrated that he’d lost grasp of the plotline. They were only twenty minutes into the film and he’d been distracted the entire time. He didn’t know why Osamu had to be such a dick all the time.

Sure, Atsumu had annoyed Osamu for no reason at least a few thousand times in the past, but today he hadn’t started it.

But it didn’t matter. This was fine. Osamu would run out of popcorn soon, considering the way he always inhaled his food. Then he wouldn’t have any more projectiles, and Atsumu could enjoy the movie, and-

Another piece of popcorn slapped Atsumu, right at the corner of his eye.

Atsumu cursed through gritted teeth, seized a whole handful of popcorn, and leaned over Suna to fling it directly into Osamu’s face.

“The hell, ‘Tsumu?” said Osamu, reaching over to shove him.

“You started it, asshole!”

“Can both of you stop before we all get kicked out?” said Suna wearily. He’d sunk back in his seat to avoid the popcorn and the clumsy slapping. “I don’t want to experience the arcade incident again. It was embarrassing.”

Atsumu huffed. “That was ‘Samu’s fault.”

“It was not,” said Osamu. “You tried to steal my tickets.”

“Only ‘cause you cheated on all the games! It wasn’t fair!”

“Just ‘cause you lost doesn’t mean I cheated, it means you  _ suck _ .”

Atsumu lunged at him across the seats and Suna planted a hand on Atsumu’s shoulder to push him back. Atsumu plopped down with a huff. Suna was stronger than he looked.

“What happened to setting a good example for the kouhai?” whispered Suna, at a much more reasonable volume than the twins. “They’re looking at you.”

Atsumu blinked, turned his head, and realized Suna was right. Mostly all of their teammates were staring at the Miyas instead of the movie screen. None of them seemed surprised by the conflict.

Atsumu reminded himself that he was chosen as the captain of the team. The  _ captain _ . 

“Yeah,” he mumbled, settling into his seat. “You’re right.”

Suna was looking at him. Atsumu stared straight ahead at the screen, but he still knew. Suna said something to Osamu too; maybe it was similar to what he’d told Atsumu, but probably not. The two of them had always been motivated by very different things.

A few minutes passed in peace. There was no more flying popcorn and no more harsh words. Atsumu was beginning to pick up what was happening in the movie, a piece at a time.

Suna leaned over and whispered, “I’m bored.”

“You always say that during movies,” said Atsumu, still watching the screen. “It’s ‘cause you can’t look at your phone.”

“Atsumu.” Suna leaned a little closer, his words tickling Atsumu’s ear. “I said I’m  _ bored _ .”

“Yeah, I heard ya, and I said…” Atsumu trailed off, his focus slipping from the screen to Suna as he picked up on his tone. Suna’s face was mostly inexpressive but there was something about his eyes, a gleam that Atsumu recognized. “…Oh.”

“I’ll wait for you in the hallway,” said Suna. He slipped out of his seat and paced down the row, quickly dissolving into the darkness of the theater. 

Atsumu watched him go, his pulse a little faster and the movie completely forgotten. He waited as long as he could, to avoid suspicion, and lasted about two minutes. He stood, said “Be right back” to no one in particular, and automatically leapt over Osamu’s leg when it shot out to trip him. Osamu grimaced as he passed by. He probably knew where Atsumu was going. He’d seen Atsumu sneak off with Suna often enough to guess.

There was a collective gasp from the moviegoers as something unexpected happened on-screen, but Atsumu didn’t look up. He was focused on the dark stairs as he descended, and on the thought of Suna waiting in the hallway.

But Suna wasn’t in the hallway. He wasn’t anywhere, as far as Atsumu could tell. He checked the concessions area, briefly waited outside the bathroom, and finally pulled out his phone to send a text with a lot of question marks.

But there was already a message waiting for him, sent five minutes ago:

_ Theater 10. _

Atsumu frowned, but dutifully went to Theater 10. He crept through the heavy door, down the long hallway that led to the seats, and paused to stare at the flashing screen. He didn’t recognize the movie, but it looked old, as if the theater was replaying a classic he’d never seen. The quality wasn’t great, everyone’s hair was awful, and the clothing was clearly a couple of decades in the past. Atsumu glanced away to survey the audience instead, and there wasn’t much to see. Only seven people watched the film: four near the front, two in the middle, and one in the very back row with slouched shoulders and a too-large hoodie. Atsumu carefully climbed the stairs to join him.

“What’re you doin’?” asked Atsumu, keeping his voice low as he plopped into the seat beside Suna. “You said you’d wait for me in the hallway.”

“You took too long.” Suna’s hands were buried in the front pocket of his hoodie. He stretched his legs out and said, “I thought maybe you were more into the movie than you’re into me.”

Atsumu snorted. “Yeah, sure.” He leaned back in his seat, still studying Suna. “It was gettin’ pretty good, though. The lead actress is hot.”

Suna slid a glance at him. “You should go back and finish it, then. Don’t let me stop you.”

“Nah, I’ll come watch it again when I’m un-grounded. I can wait.” It was in direct opposition to the fifty times Atsumu had complained that he needed to see that movie or he would die, but Suna didn’t point that out.

“You know Osamu will spoil it for you,” said Suna. He shifted in his seat and it brought him a little closer to Atsumu. 

“Maybe,” said Atsumu. He hardly heard what Suna said; he was too fixated on the new press of Suna’s knee against his. He wanted to reach out and rest his hand there but he didn’t know if Suna would mind.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” asked Suna with a little grin. “Wishing I was as pretty as that actress?”

“No.” Atsumu could have elaborated. He could have said he was thinking about the last time Suna had announced he was bored and it had resulted in a thirty-minute makeout session in the storage room. He could have said he was wondering if Suna was thinking about the same thing, and if Suna had been into that, and if Suna wanted to do that again right now.

But Atsumu didn’t say anything, and that was okay. He didn’t need to.

One of Suna’s hands emerged from his hoodie pocket. He pushed on the armrest between them and it slid up, locking in between the seats. 

Atsumu hadn’t even known it would do that.

“What’re you thinking about, then?” asked Suna. He pulled a knee up onto his seat and swiveled to face Atsumu. Mischief flashed in his eyes, even in the dark theater.

“Nothin’,” said Atsumu, maybe a bit too quickly. 

“Nothin’,” repeated Suna, mimicking his accent. “You’re not thinking about kissing me?”

“’Course not.” Atsumu had never been a good liar, and the quirk of Suna’s eyebrow suggested he hadn’t gained that skill in the past five minutes, either. Atsumu added “Gross,” as if that would make it more convincing.

Suna rolled his eyes. “Fine then, if it’s  _ gross _ .” He moved to stand up, but Atsumu grabbed his wrist and tugged him back down. Suna flopped back into his seat with a huff, and before he could resist, Atsumu grabbed the front of his hoodie and yanked him in.

The kiss was clumsy, but that wasn’t a surprise. Atsumu didn’t have a lot of experience, and although Suna had never talked about his dating life, Atsumu didn’t think he had much, either. They were too busy with school and volleyball to make time for stuff like this. 

Atsumu had his fair share of confessions from fangirls at school, but he’d never considered accepting any of them. He’d never considered getting close to anyone at all, until Suna had cornered him after a particularly tense practice.

He’d considered it a lot since then.

Suna peeled away from Atsumu’s mouth, just long enough to smugly smile at him and say, “Gross.” Then he leaned in again, and Atsumu was too distracted to think of a comeback.

Suna’s hand touched Atsumu’s knee and he shifted, sitting almost backward in his seat, one knee digging into Atsumu’s thigh as Suna kissed him deeper. Suna’s breath was warm against Atsumu’s face, his hand heavy as it slipped a little further up Atsumu’s leg. He touched Atsumu’s bottom lip with his tongue, briefly, before pulling away.

Atsumu stared at him, too warm and a little breathless.

“You taste like a popcorn bucket,” said Suna with his curved grin.

“Oh,” said Atsumu. His head was a little hazy. “Sorry.”

Suna laughed, so quietly that it was hardly more than a puff of air. He moved close and Atsumu closed his eyes, anticipating another kiss, but he didn’t get one; not on his mouth, anyway. Suna dipped his head and pressed his lips against Atsumu’s jaw, and right beneath his ear, and then his neck. Atsumu went stiff as Suna breathed against his skin, and when Suna’s tongue traced his neck, Atsumu felt a full-body tingle.

“Sunarin.” Atsumu tilted his head back and Suna mouthed at his throat. Atsumu vaguely remembered what Suna had said the last time he’d kissed him stupid, and murmured, “Rintarou.”

Suna’s grip on Atsumu’s leg went tighter. He stilled, but only for a second. He tilted his head and sucked at Atsumu’s neck, gently at first, but then hard enough to leave a sting beneath the skin when he pulled away. Atsumu’s inhale was sharp, his hips bucking without his permission as Suna picked a new patch of skin and did it again.

Atsumu bit his lip, but couldn’t stop the noise that bubbled in his throat; a little whiny, a little desperate. 

Suna dropped one more kiss on Atsumu’s neck, right where Atsumu suspected he would have a bruise, and sat up to look at him. “Do you like it?” asked Suna. It could have been a teasing question, but it wasn’t. 

Atsumu licked his lips. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Yeah, I like it.”

Suna glanced down, and Atsumu’s heart skipped a few beats when he realized what Suna was looking at. Atsumu moved to cover himself, but Suna caught his wrist and kept it away. Suna looked from the bulge in Atsumu’s jeans back up to his face. “I’ll pretend not to notice if you want.”

Atsumu didn’t respond. His face was on fire, but he didn’t think ignoring this was what he wanted. 

“Or,” said Suna slowly, “I can notice and do something about it.”

There was a twist in Atsumu’s gut; half arousal and half nervousness. He hadn’t done anything like this before. Sure he’d jerked off when he was alone, and sure he’d spent a lot of time thinking about Suna touching him, but thinking about it and doing it were catastrophically different.

And all of those times when Atsumu had thought about it, he’d imagined they would be somewhere private.

Atsumu blinked past Suna, at the handful of people in the theater. He only saw the backs of their heads. They either hadn’t noticed that anything was happening in the back row or they didn’t care.

“Atsumu?” Suna sat back to give him space. “Do you want to go back to your movie? It’s okay if you do.”

The lurch in Atsumu’s stomach made it clear that he didn’t want that. “No. I’m good. I’m… yeah. We can keep goin’.”

Suna frowned. “If you’re just saying that-”

“I’m not.” Atsumu caught a handful of Suna’s hoodie and held it tight. “I want to. C’mere.”

Suna gave into Atsumu’s pull and leaned into another kiss. It was long but chaste, a press of lips against lips until Suna broke away to whisper, “Tell me if you want to stop.”

There was another jolt of nerves, but it was washed out by relief. Suna was a jerk sometimes, but never when it mattered. 

Suna kissed him again, and this time there was nothing chaste about it. His tongue slipped into Atsumu’s mouth, tentative at first, then licking deeper. Atsumu was so distracted by the kiss that he didn’t notice Suna’s hand moving higher up his thigh, not until it pressed against the bulge in his jeans and Atsumu went rigid.

Suna pulled his hand away, but Atsumu shook his head. 

“No, don’t…” He squeezed Suna’s wrist and dragged it back, twitching as Suna’s hand settled onto him again. “I want you to.”

Suna’s eyes were so dark that Atsumu could hardly see them in the shadows. He moved his hand, just barely, and Atsumu’s hips automatically kicked up against it. 

The screen flashed bright, just for a moment, but it was enough for him to realize that Suna was flushed the same as he was. 

Atsumu bit his lip as Suna rubbed against him, and even through his jeans it felt incredible. He rocked up against Suna’s hand and Suna kissed him again, his hand still moving. Atsumu’s knees fell apart, one hand clutching at the armrest as the other found Suna’s waist. He slipped his fingers beneath Suna’s hoodie and let them stay there, brushing against bare skin.

Suna dipped into Atsumu’s mouth again, their tongues meeting, curling, separating as Suna returned to Atsumu’s neck. Atsumu’s head fell back, his mouth slightly open, as Suna sucked at the skin. He’d known that hickies were a thing, but he’d never understood why.

He did now. He really, really did.

“Rintarou.” It was louder than a whisper. Atsumu didn’t remember how to whisper. He bucked against Suna’s hand as teeth grazed his neck. “Rin… I think I’m… I think…”

Suna licked a long strip up the length of Atsumu’s throat. He went back to the first patch of skin he’d worked on and sucked on it again, hard enough to give Atsumu a new, blinding blend of pain and pleasure that had his back arching, his hips thrusting against Suna’s hand, and-

“Oh shit,” said Atsumu, louder than he meant to. The first gasp of a moan left his mouth but then Suna was there, muffing the sound with a kiss as he rubbed his palm against Atsumu, working him until he was hot and gasping and so hazy that he hardly realized how wet his pants had become.

Suna moved his hand to Atsumu’s thigh, gripping lightly as he gave one final, sloppy kiss. He settled sideways into his own seat, watching Atsumu with something like awe. He said, “Did you…?”

If Atsumu’s face hadn’t already been so hot, he may have blushed. “Well yeah, obviously. What did you expect when you were doin’… doin’  _ that?” _

Suna glanced at the front of Atsumu’s pants. Atsumu wondered if the wetness was soaking through. He was afraid to check. Suna said “Oh,” but it sounded like  _ Wow _ .

Atsumu tried to see if Suna was hard, but his hoodie and sweatpants were too baggy. “So should I… do you want me to…?”

Suna tugged down the edge of his hoodie, as if trying to cover himself. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Atsumu pushed himself out of his slump to sit up higher. “I will. I’ll do whatever you want. Just tell me.”

Suna’s stare didn’t waver, but his face burned red in another bright flash of the screen. He shook his head and said, “I don’t want to come in my pants. That’s embarrassing.”

Atsumu, even more flustered, said, “Shut up, Rintarou. You’re the one who started it. What, was I s’posed to stop ya?”

“No.” Suna smiled as he stood up. He shoved his hands into the pocket of his hoodie and stretched it down as he adjusted himself in his sweatpants. He stooped down to murmur into Atsumu’s ear, “I’m going to the bathroom. I can take care of it myself or you can come help. Your choice.” With that he turned away to walk toward the stairs, his gait noticeably awkward.

Atsumu stared after him, until Suna reached the lower floor and paused to check over his shoulder. Atsumu scrambled to his feet to follow and ignored the discomfort in his jeans as he careened down the stairs. 

Maybe he could clean himself up in the bathroom and no one would ever know this had happened, or maybe Osamu would take one look at him and guess.

Atsumu thought, as he trailed after Suna, that it didn’t much matter. It was worth it, and as he followed Suna into a narrow bathroom stall, he knew he wouldn’t have any regrets.


End file.
